


Waiting in the Wings

by LaKoda0518



Category: Freebatch - Fandom, Real Person Fiction
Genre: BAFTAs, Ben finds him charming, Ben is endearingly adorable, Car Sex, Don't shoot the author, Eventual Fluff, Eventual Sex, Fluff and Humor, Freebatch - Freeform, I have no shame, I should stop with the tags now and just post the damn thing, I would like my straight jacket in pink please, M/M, Martin is a horndog, Martin is insatiable, Martin is such a flirt, Masturbation, No I dont really think this happened, Oops fingers slipped, Pure Crack, Pure fiction, RimLock, Rimming, Scruffy Martin, Semi-Public Sex, Sophie is the real MVP lol, Totally an excuse to picture these guys naked, Totally stalling, Where's that fucking cat gif when I need it LMAO, Yep I'm really doing this, benedict/martin freeman, but ben likes it, here goes nothing, real person fic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-16
Updated: 2019-09-08
Packaged: 2020-03-06 11:07:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,616
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18849841
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LaKoda0518/pseuds/LaKoda0518
Summary: Benedict Cumberbatch finally takes home his BAFTA! His former co-star, Martin Freeman, watches from home and couldn't be more proud of him... however, in true John Watson fashion, he gets a little bored with sitting on the sidelines of Ben's life and takes matters into his own hands. (Quite literally ;P)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> OK! So general disclaimer: In no way, shape, form, or fashion am I trying to say that any of this actually happened! lol This lovely bit of crack was born through conversations with amazing friends that led to quite a few giggles and some very steamy fantasies. So, I decided to share with you all. If you like it, I'm glad! If you don't, please just scroll on by! lol Just please, put down the torches and pitchforks and understand that this is purely fiction! <3 This was written in fun with no speculation what-so-ever and I was proud of how it turned out :) So, I hope you enjoy it as much as I am and leave a comment and a kudos if you think it deserves it! 
> 
> Also, a major thank you to the lovely CarmillaCarmine for the wonderful edits she helped me make and for listening to me go on and on about this :) Thank you to wonderful Thinkanddoodle_batch, who I gift this fic to as a belated birthday present, for her input as well and for cheering me on to get this finished :) You guys are the best friends a girl could ask for! *hugs and kisses*

Being home alone on a Sunday evening wasn’t usually the sort of thing that bothered Martin Freeman, but tonight was a completely different scenario. He swirled his third glass of scotch around as he watched the celebration unfolding on the television screen before him. Benedict had just been named the recipient of the BAFTA for Best Leading Actor and, despite Martin’s previous reassurances that he was a shoe-in for it, the man looked absolutely beside himself with shock.

 

He watched Ben fumble with his glasses a bit, looking noticeably vulnerable, as he smoothed down his jacket and made his way up to accept the long-overdue award. Martin smiled widely to himself as he watched the exchange take place and raised his glass in a lonely toast to his former costar. Knocking back the amber liquid, he savoured the burn before placing the empty tumbler on the end table beside him. He could see the slight tremor in his friend’s hands as he reached out to wrap his fingers around the hefty base of the trophy. After all of the strenuous effort Ben had put into his work, Martin could safely say that no one else was more deserving. Hell, he’d been more deserving when he’d been nominated the past seven times, but the poor man had been snubbed each time in favour of other acts. 

 

As Ben stumbled over his words, Martin couldn’t help but chuckle. “Oh my God… he seriously just called himself a bride,” he mused aloud to the empty room, pouring another glass of scotch and stretching out to lounge on his sofa. He shook his head and took a sip as he let his eyes roam over the perfect image of Benedict in his suit and tie on the television. The man was gorgeous no matter what he wore, but, tonight, he looked absolutely stunning. As he continued to watch, a fond warmth spread through his chest and Martin couldn’t help but let his attention be drawn to those long fingers playing over the base of the award. Ben’s fingers gripped and loosened and trembled as he spoke, telegraphing his humble surprise. The whole image reminded Martin of the first time he’d ever taken Ben to bed and it was hard to keep his thoughts - and his left hand - from drifting after that.

 

He thought back to the way Ben’s hands had trailed nervously over his skin as they lay next to one another; the so-called ‘bed’ in Martin’s trailer had barely been big enough for the both of them. They’d seen a long day of filming and had retired to Martin’s trailer with every intention to run lines for the next day’s work. However, after a couple of drinks and one well-timed ‘eye-fucking’ joke that had tinted Ben’s cheeks a lovely shade of scarlet, Martin had found himself halfway across the small table while his lips and tongue explored as much of Ben’s mouth and neck as he could possibly reach. 

 

Martin let the fingers of his left hand trace light circles down his inner thigh through the fabric of his pyjama bottoms. Biting down on his bottom lip, he brushed his thumb and index finger over the curved outline of his swiftly filling cock. He was only vaguely aware of Ben’s voice listing off his fellow cast mates and crew members as he said his thank-yous in the background. His mind was still distracted by the memory of Ben’s shaking hand slipping inside the waistband of his pants as those long, perfect fingers had wrapped around his cock. Ben’s hands were fucking wonderful. They always felt amazing on Martin’s body, no matter where he was being touched by Ben. Sadly, with all of the Avengers hoopla taking place lately and now the BAFTAs, it had been a few weeks since they had been together properly and, Christ, if he didn’t miss the lovable git…

 

By now, Martin’s pyjama trousers were tented obscenely and he couldn’t resist the urge to stroke himself through the soft, cotton. He groaned at the sensation and had to close his eyes to keep from feeling like an absolute dog as Ben’s speech took a sentimental turn. It had been weeks after all and it wasn’t like Ben would be thanking him anyway, not on public television. No, all the credit on the emotional end would go to Sophie, which never bothered him, but he was beginning to wish that all of this didn’t have to be so secretive. Sophie was fine with their arrangement and had even been the one to suggest the idea of having an open relationship. He should be able to congratulate Ben in person; kiss those lovely, stuttering lips and taste the heart-wrenching humility on his talented tongue… and fucking hell, was that tongue talented… 

 

Martin picked up the pace of his strokes and bit down hard on his bottom lip, just the way he liked it when Ben did it. He thought of that tongue flicking out over his nipples and trailing sloppy, wet kisses down his abdomen. He let himself imagine the first time Ben had ever taken him in his mouth; playing coy with tentative little licks, tasting and savouring him, as he pressed chaste kisses to Martin’s glans. He remembered digging his fingers into Ben’s hair and arching his hips up as he silently begged for more. It had been thrilling having Ben licking over his cock, but then he had tugged on those luscious curls… The sound that Ben made had wrecked every other fantasy Martin had ever had as that deep, rumbling baritone was reduced to the most desperately needy whimper he’d ever heard.

 

The sound of uproarious applause signalled the end of Ben’s acceptance speech and Martin let himself fall away completely. He tugged his cock out of his pyjama bottoms and trailed his right hand up under his shirt, dragging it up his chest to expose his belly. The more he thought of Ben’s tongue swirling over his cockhead, the closer he felt himself edging toward release. He could easily picture himself sliding in and out of that beautiful mouth as Ben’s head bobbed up and down in his lap. 

 

He relinquished his hold on his cock for a brief moment, slicking over his palm with his own tongue before resuming his strokes. Martin’s breaths were coming in heavy pants by now and he could feel his balls drawing up tight as he spread his thighs to give himself more room. He concentrated all his thoughts on the memory of the perfect, wet heat of Ben’s mouth; a deep groan rising up from his chest. Pumping his fist in a furious manner, his mind slipped him the most glorious image of Ben’s crystal gaze peering up at him from beneath dark lashes as he pulled off just far enough to lick a wide, teasing stripe up the underside of his throbbing cock. 

 

Martin clenched his teeth together in a snarl, as his release rushed over him, cursing and growling Ben’s name as he came. Thick, hot spurts painted his chest and abdomen as a stray shot hit him just under his chin. 

 

Slowing his strokes, Martin sank even further into the soft leather of the sofa. He let his hand fall to the side as his right arm came up to drape over his eyes. It seemed to take ages for his breathing to regulate and he couldn’t shake the mental image of Benedict’s satisfied little smirk looking down on his handiwork. 

 

“Yeah… I miss you, you prat,” Martin whispered as he took a deep breath and sighed, knowing full well that he was addressing the empty room. 

 

He could feel the sticky mess that he’d made beginning to dry as a cool breeze drifted in from the open patio doors and he groaned. He supposed it served him right for always forgetting to close them; living in complete privacy seemed to have given him a few bad habits. Pulling himself up to a sitting position, he stripped off his pyjamas and tore his stained t-shirt over his head and mopped himself up as best he could. He’d have to have a shower anyway, so what did it matter if he missed a spot here and there. It would be hours before Ben and Sophie returned from the awards show, what with the after party appearance they would be expected to make, now. So, he had all the time in the world to clean himself up and dispose of the evidence of his loneliness before Ben could even make it back home. 

 

They’d already planned on Ben coming back to Martin’s place after the awards were over and, at the time, it had seemed like the perfect option. However, as Martin drug himself off of the sofa and down the hall to the master suite, he was finding the idea of waiting so long to congratulate his partner terribly irritating. 

 

He set the water temperature of the large walk-in shower just the way he liked it and retreated back to the sitting room to grab his mobile phone off of the end table. Two picture messages were already loading as he unlocked the device and he couldn’t help but smile. The first, sent from Sophie’s phone, featured Ben on stage, looking quite shaken and elated all at once as he stared down at the award in his hands. The second was much more staged than the first, coming from Ben himself this time, and it made Martin laugh out loud. Ben was somewhere backstage, smiling the wide smile that doubled his chins and lit his eyes like the London skyline as he gripped his award proudly. The caption read:  **_I know you knew it all along, but I’m finally bringing it home! Thank you for all the support, darling. I couldn’t have done it without you, either. Wish you were here, but I will see you as soon as I can! xx -Ben_ **

 

Firing off a quick thank you text to Sophie as he made his way back to the bathroom, he went back to his previous messages with Ben to let him know how proud he was of him. 

 

**_Congrats, love! So proud of you! I told you it was yours this time. Maybe now you’ll actually listen to me when I try to tell you things, but I doubt it though ;) You look amazing, by the way, and I can’t wait to get my hands on you so we can celebrate properly. See you soon, love xx -MF_ **

 

He set his phone down on the bathroom counter as he pulled a fresh towel and flannel from the cabinet. A short buzzing sound let him know that he had gotten another text and he turned back to check it.

 

**_Sounds perfect and thank you… :) wish we didn’t have to wait, but I know it will be worth it once I’m finally back home. Even after such a wonderful evening, I’m still certain that celebrating with you will be the highlight of the night. I’ve got to go for some interviews just now, but I’ll ring you once we start home. Be glad to kiss you after all this time… xx -Ben_ **

 

Martin smiled to himself and typed out a quick reply -  **_Ta, love… Me too. Just have fun and enjoy yourself. I’ll see you soon xx -MF_ ** \- before returning his phone to the counter and stepping into the shower. The steam welled up around him as the hot water cascaded down the planes of his back. As the heat and pressure eased some of the tension in his shoulders left over from being slouched on the couch, he sighed in relief and ducked his head beneath the spray. He let the water soak his hair and face before reaching for the shampoo. 

 

He lathered up his hair and began to consider all the attention that Ben was going to get at the after party. The whole scenario was going to push him out of his comfort zone in a very funny way and Martin made a mental note to ask Sophie to send him some pictures. Ben was always so humble and modest about his abilities and Martin was sure that he would prove to be even more endearing tonight as people showered him with praise and affection.

 

Tilting his head back under the spray, he rinsed the suds from his greying hair and sighed. The more Martin allowed himself to think about all of the things in Ben’s life that he was missing out on, the harder it was getting to sit back and let it all happen around him. His thoughts kept turning back to the after party and he flicked open the cap on his body wash as a new possibility presented itself. 

 

He knew where the party was being held and he knew people involved with hosting the event. There would be many other people he knew in attendance, as well, and if he could just manage to play it off like he had been in the area, he might be able to stop by for a bit to surprise Ben in person. It wasn’t like anyone would suspect anything since they were friends and had worked together many times, so stopping in to congratulate his co-star would seem like a normal thing to do.

 

As the idea settled in his head, Martin could feel the excitement building in his chest and, by the time he had rinsed himself off, he was grinning from ear to ear at the thought of seeing Ben so much sooner. He grabbed the towel off of the rack and dried off as quickly as he could, wrapping the towel loosely around his waist, and heading out into the master bedroom. He made his way to the walk-in wardrobe and eyed his best suits. Not wanting to draw too much attention to himself, he selected a modest black-on-black with a black button-down and snagged a black tie from one of the drawers. He brought the suit out into the bedroom and smoothed it out on the bed as he set about getting his pants and socks and shoes together.

 

Undoing the knot of the towel at his hip, he draped it over his shoulder and he slipped into a pair of navy plaid boxer shorts. He leaned over and let out a frustrated huff when his wet hair flopped over onto his forehead, scattering water droplets in its wake. As he pushed his shaggy fringe back into place, he pulled the towel over his head and rubbed it over his hair in an attempt to dry it as much as he could. 

 

Martin padded back to the bathroom and dropped the wet towel into the dirty clothes hamper, eyeing himself in the mirror as he raised an eyebrow. His hair was sticking up all over the place and, if he was honest with himself, he looked more than a bit knackered. The creases in his forehead were becoming more prominent and his eyes looked tired and strained. He tilted his chin up, figuring he could do with a shave, but he didn’t have that much time. As he shook his head to clear his thoughts, he remembered just how much Ben seemed to like his scruff and decided it would be fine to skip the razor for tonight. He had more important things to think about anyway.

 

Within the hour, he was dressed and ready to go. He’d already called a cab to pick him up and he gathered up his wallet, phone, and keys before heading to the front door. The cab was waiting for him as he bounded down the front steps, taking them two at a time in a rush of nervous excitement. He slid onto the backseat of the car, gave the driver the address, and pulled his phone out to give himself something to focus on.

 

It wouldn’t be long, now, and he would finally be seeing Ben for the first time in weeks. Though he was finding it hard to contain the excitement of seeing that amazing smile again, he couldn’t deny that he was beginning to wonder if he was making a huge mistake. They had agreed on keeping their relationship a secret for a reason, what with the press hounding them left and right about their previous seemingly intimate encounters; nothing major, of course, just an affectionate expression here and there, subtle touches to more intimate areas such as thighs and necks, etc. But, still, his breath caught in his throat when he considered the fact that perhaps Ben wouldn’t be very happy to see him, after all… 

 

Martin swallowed hard and fumbled with the lock button on his phone, turning the device over and over in his hands. Why hadn’t he thought of this possibility before? Was he truly this mental that he would risk everything they’d worked so hard to hide just to be able to join his partner at some silly event? Would Ben be happy that he’d surprised him at the afterparty? Or would he simply play it off and act as if Martin were practically invisible…?

 

As the looming possibility of rejection washed over him, he could feel his heart rate picking up and mixing with the anxiety churning deep in his gut. He took a deep breath and blew it out slowly, staring thoughtfully out the window as London passed him by. 

 

_ Only one way to find out….. _


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Martin makes his way to the BAFTA after party in hopes of surprising Ben and being welcomed with open arms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know it’s taken a while but I’m excited to finally give you the second chapter!! I hope you like this and enjoy it as much as I have enjoyed writing it :) I know many of you have been waiting an age!! ♥️
> 
> Special thanks to CarmillaCarmine for all her notes and edits and for always being willing to look over the things I write! You’re the best!!

The cab pulled up to the kerb and slowed to a stop. Martin pushed a few bills through to the cabbie and stepped out onto the pavement, taking a deep breath to steady his racing heart. He had sent a few text messages to the event planners to make sure that he would at least be welcomed and, naturally, found that his name still had the ability to open doors when it mattered most. The ease of admission had been comforting in more ways than one when he was offered an alternate point of entry so as not to publicize his arrival. He had made certain to request that his attendance be made as discreet as possible.

 

Glancing to his left, Martin took note of the side entrance and the tall, dark haired security guard that stepped out as he approached. The man dipped his head, his eyes hidden behind black sunglasses, and held the door open.   
  
“Mr. Freeman,” he acknowledged, stepping aside so that Martin could pass through.

 

Martin gave a brief jerk of his chin and held up a hand in greeting. “Cheers,” he replied, thanking him for his hospitality, “It’s to the left, yeah?” He was vaguely aware of the hint of apprehension threatening to stake a claim on his vocal chords and he did his best to push it out of his mind for the time being. 

 

The security guard nodded his head in affirmation, punctuating it with a sharp “Yes, sir”, before locking the side door and turning over his shoulder to set off in the opposite direction. 

 

As he made his way down a long corridor, Martin finally reached the staircase he had been searching for and made his way up to the next level of the building. Stepping out onto the upper landing and slipping into the ballroom, he found himself swept up in a crowd full of sharply dressed men and women. 

 

Not wanting to be seen just yet, he ducked his head and made his way to the wall where he could edge around the crowd and search for Ben; it would spoil the element of surprise if he was noticed too soon. Although it took him several minutes, he eventually heard that familiar little cough of self-consciousness. 

 

_ I’d know that sound, anywhere. The praise is already getting to him. _

 

The thought of Ben blushing over being congratulated made him smile and he couldn’t deny the fondness he had for the telltale gesture as he looked to his right and caught sight of Benedict standing just a few steps away. The taller man was standing with his back to Martin's hiding place, giving him quite a good view of his backside. 

 

As he raked his eyes over Ben’s shoulders and arse, Martin’s gaze finally settled on the sliver of exposed skin at the nape of his lover’s neck. What he wouldn’t give to press a trail of kisses along the collar of that shirt right about now…. 

 

Shaking his head to clear his thoughts, Martin noticed that Sophie had glanced up from her position beside her husband and, after a brief double take, her gaze had met his. He offered her a polite smile and she raised her eyebrows in a subtle question. As much as it seemed that she wanted to smile, she kept a hint of uncertainty in her unspoken words.  _ She knows this is risky, too… but I just can’t stay away any longer…  _

 

Sophie’s eyes narrowed slightly at his silent admission and - much to Martin’s relief - she gave him a single, discreet nod of understanding. Flicking her eyes in the direction of the drinks table, she gave him a rendezvous point. He watched as she placed her hand on Benedict’s bicep and extended her near empty champagne flute for him to take. Taking the gesture as his cue, Martin slipped behind a large black screen and waited only a moment before Ben crossed his path. 

 

Sneaking out a hand, he reached out and pinched Ben’s right arse cheek through his smartly tailored trousers.  The taller man let out a gasp of indignation, nearly upending a passing drinks tray. He turned expertly over his shoulder in an attempt to protest, but stopped short as Martin’s nimble fingers plucked his pocket square straight from his breast pocket with a sly smile playing at the corners of his lips.

 

As Ben’s mouth dropped open in shock, Martin took his chance to seize the opportunity to put some of his pent up shameless flirting to good use. He slipped the pocket square into his own pocket and dropped his gaze to Ben’s waist, indicating the change of focus with a downward flick of his eyebrows.

 

“I like that belt,” he said by way of greeting; grinning incessantly the moment the taller man’s eyes darted to his own empty belt loops.

 

“But, I’m not -“

 

_ ‘Too late… mine, now,’  _ Martin thought, as he slid his hands up to slip Benedict’s glasses off of his face. Appreciating the make and overall quality of the glasses, he smirked and slipped them onto his own face. He tilted his head and squinted his eyes just a bit as Benedict continued to gape at him. “Your vision’s better than I’d expected it to be,” he mused, glancing up over the rim of the expensive frames to fix his partner with a teasing glare, “I mean, what with you fancying this scruffy face and all of this greying hair, hm?” 

 

Before Ben could formulate a reply, Martin took a step closer and checked that they were both hidden away behind the screen before letting the fingers of his left hand trace over the black lapels of Ben’s navy suit jacket. The fabric was smooth beneath his touch and he couldn’t resist hooking the other man in a loose grip to pull him closer; their faces inches apart. 

 

As the initial shock of seeing Martin began to fade, Ben’s eyes roamed his body from head to toe as he shook his head, blinking in confusion. “Martin… what  _ are _ you doing here? What are we going to do if someone sees or notices that -“

 

Cutting him off with a roll of his eyes that said ‘now’s not the time’, Martin smiled and reached to pick a piece of fluff from Ben’s shoulder before smoothing the fabric down in a comforting gesture, “Hmmm… that’s a good question. You know, seeing us together in public after all this time, your fan base is gonna go completely mental,”. He threw the younger man a cheeky wink, removing the glasses and placing them in Ben’s pocket as he let his eyes rove over his body, once again. He’d underestimated how hard it would be to be with Ben in public and not be able to touch him properly after they’d already spent so much time apart.

 

Benedict scoffed, falling into their usual playful banter quite easily, “My fan base? What about yours, hmm? They’re far worse than mine are,”. 

 

The truth of the statement made Martin chuckle and he nodded his head in agreement, “Well, yeah, them too... but you can bet they’ll be dying to catch me copping a feel or you swooning over something I’ve said,”. The look that Ben gave him at that suggestion nearly caused him to laugh full out.

 

“Oh, I’m the only one that swoons, hmm?” the taller man asked, giving in and pulling Martin in for a good natured half hug.

 

The action caught Martin off guard, but he twisted in Ben’s grip to hide his surprise as he chuckled and leaned up to brushed his lips against his partner’s ear ever so subtly. They were so close no one would have ever noticed such a minute display of affection even if they weren’t hidden. “Touchè.... they’re probably dying to catch us in the heat of the moment though; expecting me to forget myself and my surroundings and snog the ever-living shit out of you,” he joked; his words taking on a curious tone as he pulled back to look Ben in the eye.

 

Ben’s gaze faltered for a moment as something delightfully risky seemed to flash across his face -  _ then, why don’t you...?  _ \- and for a split second Martin considered doing just that… But, the moment dissolved as Benedict cleared his throat and turned the conversation altogether. “You’re freshly showered,” he commented, taking a deep breath in through his nose, “God, you smell wonderful,”. 

 

The tenderness in Ben’s expression had dislodged the dam of emotion Martin had built up in his chest and he couldn’t help feeling comforted by it, “Hm, yeah I sort of needed the shower,”.

 

The words sounded more like an admission than an observation as he spoke which caused Ben’s brow to furrow, “Oh? Why, what-?”. Realisation dawned across his angular features and he stared wide-eyed as Martin shot him a confused look. “Oh, you didn’t end up with another mess in the kitchen did you?” the taller man asked, his voice filled with mock concern.

 

The old joke pulled a groan from Martin’s chest and he flashed a snarky glance up at his partner before rolling his eyes. “That was one time!” he huffed, “and, just because it happened on a talk show doesn’t mean I’m always bad in the kitchen, you know?”. 

 

Giving the idea some careful consideration, Ben nodded in acknowledgment as Martin’s smile began to make an appearance again. “Hmm, guess you can prove it to me when you bring me breakfast in bed tomorrow morning,” Ben replied, dropping a wink as he caught Martin smirking at him.

 

“You want breakfast in bed, do ya?” Martin scoffed. “I can arrange that. You can have me; how’s that sound?” he chided, as he waggled his eyebrows suggestively in hopes of making Ben blush. 

 

With a bright smile, Martin could tell that Ben had begun to let himself relax a bit and Ben dropped his arm from Martin’s shoulder as he stepped further behind the screen. “Mmm, that,” he answered, rolling the words in his mouth as he considered them, “sounds like the greatest news I’ve heard all day,”. A fond smile crossed his face and he bit down on his lip as Martin placed a hand on his hip at the implication of what was to come.

 

Letting out a low chuckle, Martin brushed his nose against the side of Ben’s cheek, “I’m gonna call bullshit on that one, mate. You just won a BAFTA,”. He closed his eyes and let his free hand come up to grip Ben’s other hip in an attempt to steady himself as he swayed forward into the taller man’s space. The pull he felt toward his partner was becoming harder to resist, but he valiantly fought the urge to drag him off into a supply closet and have his way with him right there and then.

 

“Yes, I did,” Ben agreed, letting his forehead bump against Martin’s in a careful display of comfort. “And now, I want to go home and celebrate… with you,”. 

 

The words warmed Martin to the core and he was grateful to have been wrong to think that Ben wouldn’t want to see him. They were close; they always had been and he was glad that he had worked up the courage to bring himself to congratulate his partner in person. Now, he was ready to get him home and give the man exactly what he wanted. “Me too… you know, I’m really proud of you,” he whispered, nudging Ben’s cheek with the tip of his nose to get his full attention.

 

“Thank you…” the taller man smiled, a faint blush coloring his cheeks, “it means a Iot to me,”. 

 

“I know, it does,” Martin answered, clapping a hand on Ben’s shoulder and pulling him in for a hug after checking to be certain they were out of sight.  _ Sod it… I’m happy for him; I should get to hug him. Who gives a shit if anyone has questions…  _

 

The weight of the gesture must have conveyed exactly what Martin had hoped, because, within a moment, the taller man’s arms curled around his back and he whispered affectionately into his hair. “God, I've missed this… it isn’t fair. I wish I could’ve thanked you up there… and told everyone what you do for me and what you put up with. I know it isn’t easy…”

 

Ben’s voice faltered and Martin let out a low chuckle as he rubbed at his back comfortingly, “Eh, I do alright; don’t worry about me. You can make it up to me later. Besides, I don’t exactly know what all you said up there anyway if I’m perfectly honest with you,”. The admission wasn’t exactly something he had intended to let slip, but he figured that Ben may benefit from hearing of his moment of weakness. However, something didn’t sit quite right. 

 

“Oh…” Benedict replied, his voice coming out sad and disappointed all of a sudden. “It-it’s alright… I know I rambled and you probably didn’t want to listen to me talk about everyone else -“

 

Hurriedly, Martin shook his head, keen on clearing up the misunderstanding. “Ah, no… No, love. It wasn’t anything like that… Not at all. You were amazing upthere and I just got a bit... you know, distracted…”. Muttering the last word, Martin let a hand drift up to scratch at the nape of his neck; an unmistakable tell if the man ever had one at all.

 

Benedict pulled back at that and narrowed his eyes, curiously. “Distracted?” He repeated as a sly smile crossed his features, “by what exactly?”

 

Biting down on his bottom lip now, Martin shrugged his shoulders as he tried not to grin about being caught out. “Mmm you… You looked so good up there and the way you kept fingering at that bloody award, oh god,” he let his eyes roll back in his head as they fell closed and he pressed his fist against his lips to stifle a groan at the memory. “All I could think about was getting your hands on me. I’ve never been jealous of an inanimate object a day in my life, but tonight came pretty damn close. And who could blame me, huh?” 

 

As Martin’s infectious, quiet laugh threatened the split the entire moment in two, Ben’s mouth dropped open in a display of mock audacity. “Oh my god, you didn’t!” he stage whispered, trying his hardest not to crack a smile.

 

Huffing out a breath of playful indignation, Martin couldn’t help himself. He smirked and shrugged his shoulders once more before pulling Ben close again, “So what if I did? You can’t honestly tell me that doesn’t turn you on… The thought of me bringing myself off to your acceptance speech… It’s just this side of dirty enough to make you hard as a rock,”. He saw Ben’s eyes go wide at the accusation a moment before he shoved his thigh expertly between the taller man’s legs, finding his interested cock filling out perfectly. 

 

“Ooh god, Martin…” Ben gasped, turning his face into the shorter man’s neck. He squeezed his eyes shut and Martin could feel the predatory expression growing in his own smile.  _ Damn it, he’s so fun to rile up…  _

 

With his trademark smirk in full bloom, Martin pressed a chaste kiss to the side of Ben’s head as he relished the other man’s arousal. “Mmm yeah, won’t be the first time you’ve said that and most certainly not the last if I play my cards right, tonight,” he answered, cheekily.

 

Expecting an exasperated response, Martin was pleasantly surprised at the faint whisper of longing that escaped his partner’s lips instead, “God, I want to go home…”

 

True, the admission caught him off guard, but it still made Martin smile like a madman and he pulled back far enough to lean up and press a kiss to the taller man’s forehead. “Alright, love, we can do that. Let’s find Sophie and we’ll see about getting you out of here,” he answered, squeezing his lover’s shoulder one last time before pulling out his phone and sending off a quick text as Ben readjusted himself in his trousers. The gesture sent a wave of arousal coursing through him, but Martin did his best to focus on the matter at hand. “We’ll get you two to your car and I’ll make my way back to the house,” he stated before cupping his hand to Ben’s face and rubbing his thumb over his cheek, “I love you and I really am proud of you, ok? I’ll see you at home,”.

 

Ben nodded his understanding as he leaned down to kiss Martin softly before breaking away completely. “I love you… see you soon and be careful,” he added, ever the concerned worrywart. 

 

With a wink, Martin threw him a quick air kiss and a brief smile. “Will do, love. You, too. Gonna say some congratulations to a few people before I leave. Give you guys some time to make a showy exit before I make my break. Take care,” he replied, trying not to look back as he slipped out from behind the screen while Ben waved goodbye.

 

Out in the open, his phone buzzed and he slipped it out to check his messages for Sophie’s reply.

 

_ Glad all is well. :) I figured he’d be ready to go once he saw you, so we’ll wrap up here. I’ve already called the car around, so we’ll be making our way out as quickly as we can. So, get on back and I’ll have him message you once we’re in the car. And, Martin… thank you. Thank you for putting yourself out there tonight. He really needed that and frankly I did, too. Lol I was going crazy with all of his fretting. He worries about you, you know. We both do, so, please, set him right so that he can stop stressing about it all and let me know if you need anything, love. Take care of yourself. XO - Sophie _

  
  



	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Benedict reflects back to when Martin won his own BAFTA and remembers a very sexy car sex incident from their past...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Updating this in honor of Martin's 48th birthday!!! Hoping he has a spectacular day and never ever sees this fic! 😅🙈
> 
> Special thanks to my best friends; especially CarmillaCarmine for her helpful edits! ❤️ This chapter is dedicated to her favorite things 😂

Benedict’s sunglasses slipped down his nose as he ducked into the backseat of the awaiting car after Sophie. The award still clutched tight in his hand anchored him to the moment and kept him from disappearing into his own emotions. The evening had been a roller coaster of feelings, to say the least; what with winning his first BAFTA, celebrating with his wife, and being surprised by the first love of his life for a secret congratulatory snog in the shadows. Christ, to hear it all laid out like that sounded completely unreal but that was just how his life seemed to go ever since Martin Freeman had walked in to audition to play John Watson. 

 

When he’d been quoted saying that Martin ‘had an effect on him’ that day, he had truly meant it. The moment Martin walked into the room, Ben had felt his heart skip a beat. He had known very little about the man before him, but he seemed to have been  frustrated with something - he couldn’t tell what - and he could remember instantly feeling a need to help make whatever it was right again. While Martin was charming and endearing even when irritated and moody, nothing held a candle to the warmth that spread throughout a room when he smiled and laughed. 

 

_ God, his laugh… _

 

The first time Ben had made Martin laugh, it was like everything around them had collapsed into silence and he had made a mental note to save the sound in the back of his mind for the rest of his life. The sound that had left Martin’s lips hadn’t been a deep chuckle or a bark of laughter, but a  _ giggle _ . The grown man sitting beside him had in fact erupted in a fit of uncontrollable giggles over a completely ridiculous smart arse remark and Ben had tried every day since then to pry more of the delightful sound from his co-star-turned-partner’s lips. 

 

Yes, there was something very special about a happy, bubbly Martin Freeman and Ben had fallen head over heels in love from the start. From the moment he had first laid eyes on the other man, Benedict had known that he wanted to do everything in his power to keep Martin smiling and happy as best he could. 

 

With a groan, he settled into the backseat of the car and felt Sophie’s hand brush against his as she threaded her delicate fingers through his own. Slipping the sunglasses off and tucking them into his breast pocket, he smiled at her. He knew it wasn’t half as reassuring as he’d hoped it to be as her bright eyes clouded over subtly.

 

“What's going on in that funny head of yours, hm?” Sophie asked, tapping the fingers of her freehand lightly against his temple before letting her fingertips trace the strong line of his jaw. Her touch was soft and comforting and Ben leaned into it with a sigh. He should have known he could always count on Sophie to know his thoughts before he’d even had the chance to voice them. She supported his relationship with Martin wholeheartedly; he could talk to her about anything that bothered him in full confidence that she would be helpful.

 

Choosing his words carefully, Benedict chewed his lip. “Well, I’m a bit worried about Martin… I can’t hide that, Sophie. You saw what he did tonight, I know you did, and I haven’t figured out how yet, but something tells me that you helped,” he answered, a tired smirk crossing his features as he eyed his wife suspiciously. Her answering smile eased some of his fears, but the worry seemed to hold firm.

 

“I honestly didn’t know, darling… I didn’t know he was going to show up, tonight, but I will admit that I did see him before you did,” she replied, looking slightly apologetic, but not enough to regret what had happened. “He caught my eye in the ballroom and, when I saw that heartfelt look on his face, I knew something must have happened for him to risk everything like that… He could have blown everything, my love, but surely something had to have brought him here tonight?” 

 

Ben considered her points and furrowed his brow. At the time, he had been too caught up in the heat of the moment - having Martin so daringly close in public, kissing him and breathing him in; it had all been too much - but, now… After having the time to think about it, something just seemed off. 

 

“What is it, love?” Sophie asked, bringing him back to their conversation, “Did he say or do something to raise your concerns?”

 

“No, actually… that’s just it,” Ben stated, glancing up at Sophie; his eyes filled with confusion. “He seemed fine other than the fact that he just showed up out of the blue like that. I didn’t even realize anything seemed unusual until after he’d left me and I’d had time to myself to go over our interactions… He’s very good at that; deceitful thing when he wants to be, but never vindictive. He wouldn’t lie to me about something that could hurt me or anything, just… defensive, I suppose. Like he’s trying to protect himself from something and I just can’t put my finger on it,”.

 

A knowing sigh slipped from Sophie’s lips then, and she leaned her head forward to rest against Ben’s. He took comfort in the gesture and tilted his head at an angle so that he could brush his lips against her cheek in quiet appreciation. His wife kissed his cheek in return before pulling back to look him in the eye.

 

“I think I know what’s troubling him,” she answered as she offered him yet another tight-lipped smile. Before Ben could even formulate a reply, she was talking again. “You must be able to tell that Martin doesn’t come to these sorts of things unless there is something very important that involves him during the event. So, with that being said… He’s lonely, love. It’s been - what? - a couple of months since you’ve seen each other properly,”.

 

As she spoke, all Ben could seem to do was nod in agreement; urging her to keep talking.

 

“You have to think, darling. You leave Martin and come home to me and the boys. Who or what does he have to come home to? A bachelor pad of an empty house that was originally built to house a family of five or six?” she paused, letting the idea sink in. Ben knew that she had a point and, regardless of how sad the thought was, he still had to press her to continue.

 

“Martin leaves you and goes home to that big empty house all alone and sits and waits on his next project or for you to grace him with your presence again. I know how hard it is on me when you are gone, but at least I have you in our boys. Unless it’s the odd weekend with his own kids, Martin has nothing…” Sophie finished; her soft gaze meeting his for a moment and she offered him an apologetic smile. "Not trying to spoil your evening, my darling… just want to help where I can,".

 

With a brief nod, Ben took his wife's hand and kissed the back of her knuckles. "I know… and it's fine. It really is. I don't always look at things the way that I should, especially things related to Martin and myself. Not because I don't care about him but because I care too much. The thought of him being unhappy is quite unsettling in my eyes and the realisation has been staring me in the face for months yet I've been unable to accept it… I do worry that I'm causing him more grief than good with all the time I spend away and then my devotion to you and our family…He's always been so hard to read though that it's difficult to know what he's thinking as often as I should," he breathed out a heavy sigh. 

 

Deep down, Benedict knew that that last bit hadn't been one hundred percent true. Martin could be difficult to read in certain situations, for sure, but not always and most definitely not to him. It was a pathetic excuse and he knew it. 

 

If he wanted to read Martin, then he always found that he was able to without preamble or any sort of complication. Martin wore his heart on his sleeve when it came to Ben, whether it was for better or for worse, and Ben immediately felt a wash of guilt after realising that he had simply been pushing away his lover's troubles.  

 

In truth, it wasn't fair to the other man and Benedict couldn't help but think of how different this evening's scenario had been from the time Martin had won his own BAFTA for his performance as John Watson in Sherlock. They had worked the show together, bouncing banter, wit, and even their own bodies off of one another in many different ways, and Martin had deemed his award possible only because of Ben and had dedicated it to him in private. 

 

_ Oh, god... it's hard to forget what else we did in private that evening… _ Ben shivered at the memory and Sophie eyed him suspiciously. 

 

"Are you all right, darling?" she asked as she brushed her hand gently over his forehead.

 

"Mmm," he hummed, nodding his confirmation before brushing her hand away. "Perfectly fine, dear, yes" he finally answered once he realised his wife had been waiting for an actual response.

 

She cast one last withering look at him before resigning herself to playing with her mobile phone; leaving Benedict to his thoughts. His head filled with the rehashed images of himself and Martin in the back of a hired car, fresh from the after party where they celebrated Martin's own BAFTA win and feeling so much more hopeful about their futures...

 

**********

 

“No… God, no. I want you, now…" Martin groaned as he pulled Ben’s hand into his lap and pressed up into his palm. He was so hard that Ben could practically feel his erection pulsing through the thick black fabric. “Do you feel that? That’s you… only you and your arse in these fucking tight trousers...” he moaned quietly, seeming to relish the sensation of Ben's long fingers curling briefly around the shape of his cock. “God, I’m going to sprawl you out on all fours and I’m going to fuck you open with my tongue, then I’ll fuck you with my cock until you’re whimpering my name and digging your nails into this leather seat….”

 

Benedict gasped as Martin dipped his head swiftly and nipped viciously at his jawline. “W-wait! We… we’re seriously in a hired car,” he panted, knowing he should push Martin away but all he could do was pull him closer as the man licked and sucked his way down his neck - marking the gorgeously pale skin - before working the knot of Ben's tie loose with his teeth. 

 

"And?" Martin growled questioningly against Ben's throat as the tie was stripped from his neck and blunt fingers fumbled with the clasp of his trousers. Martin's arousal was contagious and hypnotising, but, as badly as Benedict wanted to throw caution to the wind and allow Martin to have his way with him, he had to force himself to think rationally.

 

"B-but, we're not alone…" he panted, throwing a quick worried glance at the driver of the car who was seemingly ignoring everything going on behind him. How could Martin be so open about their situation in front of another person? Had he seriously lost his mind? What the hell would happen if their secrets got out?

 

Without missing a beat, Martin dipped his head and kissed Ben's lips with an air of affection that honestly surprised him in the heat of the moment. The man paused as he hooked his thumbs into the belt loops of Benedict's trousers and pulled back to look him in the eye. "The driver," he whispered, a serious tone breaking through the intense desire, "... is mine. Nothing to fear, here. It's safe, I promise,". 

 

The sincerity in his eyes gave Ben a strangely calm feeling he had never felt before and before he knew it, he was nodding his consent. With a satisfied sort of grin, Martin reached over Ben's shoulder and pressed a button behind him that triggered a thick black screen to rise up between the front and rear seats, sealing them from view. "Sound proof," Martin muttered, kissing the tender spot just below Ben's ear as he settled back into his own seat. The expression on his face did not reflect the lust driven needs of Martin's body and it was then that Ben realised what he was waiting for. Even though he had given his consent to the situation at hand, Martin was still waiting for Ben to give him the full go ahead to proceed. 

 

_ He truly is a good man… _

 

Benedict dipped his head and leaned forward in his seat to press a featherlight kiss to Martin's cheek. "I trust you," he whispered, swallowing down his insecurities before turning his gaze on his lover's face. Martin's eyebrows shot up in a such a dramatic display that it would have been comical if not for what happened next.

 

Before Ben could process the humour in the gesture, Martin pounced; pinning him against the interior of the car door at his back. The man's mouth descended on his neck and began sucking a deep bruise into the sensitive skin and the desperately unguarded moan that escaped Ben's mouth was surprising even to himself. It should have been embarrassing really, but before Ben could find it in himself to care, Martin's skilled fingers were tugging at the waistband of his trousers and pants, sliding them down his thighs in one fluid motion. 

 

"Oh, God," Ben gasped as his bare arse met the leather seat, but he didn't have much time to dwell on the erotic sensation as Martin's hands gripped his hips, urging him to turn over. 

 

"Up on your knees," Martin ordered, his voice low and rough. 

 

Benedict did as he was told, only vaguely aware that they had only done this once before when he had woken up flat on his stomach in his trailer on the set of Sherlock, knees pushed apart as Martin nipped at his arse cheeks to wake him. Having been new to many aspects of what sex with another man was truly like, Ben had been curious to find out what it would feel like to have Martin's tongue invading the most private area of his body and had of course let him try. Needless to say, the experience had been positively mind-blowing, resulting in Ben himself coming completely untouched as Martin followed soon after as he stroked himself to completion. Like most things with Martin, the experience was unlike anything Benedict had ever thought possible.

 

He was brought back to the present by the sound of  Martin unzipping his own trousers, no doubt freeing his own impressive erection from the no doubt ridiculously expensive cotton pants he wore. Like every other article of clothing the man owned, Ben knew that Martin's pants were just as well made and suited his expensive taste to a tee. 

 

As Ben situated himself on his hands and knees, he heard Martin groan from behind him and the man's hands gripped his hips roughly before sliding down to knead the soft curves of his arse. 

 

"Fuck, this is nice…" he growled, allowing his cock to press hot and hard against Ben's backside. "Can't wait to taste you… been thinking about this since I caught a glimpse of this lovely arse of yours in that godforsaken tailored suit... God, I couldn't stop thinking about bending you over and licking you open, tonguing your arse till you came just like that first time…"

 

Martin's speech trailed off as a deep moan took its place as his cock nudged between Ben's arse cheeks and sent a shiver through both of them.  _ Fuck _ , he'd forgotten how nice it felt to leave himself completely to Martin's mercy; being manhandled into position as strong hands parted his arsecheeks and that first delicate lap of Martin's tongue passed over his hole. 

 

"Oh, fuck…" Ben moaned as his entire body clenched. It was like a bolt of electricity had zapped its way from the base of his spine to travel through each of his limbs simultaneously. His breaths came in short panting huffs as Martin flattened his tongue and licked a wide stripe all the way up from his perineum to make a quick sweep over the puckered flesh once again. He just barely allowed the tip of his tongue to flick over Ben's entrance before drawing back and landing a well aimed swat to the fleshier part of his right arse cheek. 

 

Ben yelped at the stinging contact and his brain seemed to go offline. Something this dirty should not have felt this good, but then again, he was bent over on all fours for Martin Freeman and nothing about Martin ever was as it seemed to be. "Perfect… so fucking gorgeous…" Martin was whispering now as he pressed gentle nips and kisses to the undoubtedly pinkened flesh.

 

Another slap to Ben's arse.

 

This time, Martin's hand landed with more force and the fading sting from the first assault heightened Ben's response to the second. A strangled sort of whine wrenched itself from his throat and he found himself pressing his arse backward, seeking Martin's tongue like a starving man seeks nourishment. He could practically feel Martin's smirk of satisfaction at the knowledge that Ben was already breaking beneath him,but he was too far gone to care. He needed Martin to touch him; whether it was with his hands or his mouth and tongue, he didn't care. He just needed him to get the hell on with it. 

 

"Impatient, aren't you?" Martin hummed, the curiosity evident in his voice. He spread Ben's arse cheeks further apart and positioned his face at just the right level. 

 

Ben's anticipation mounted, reaching all that his patience could take and he thrust his arse backward into Martin's face and sucked in a sharp breath as he was met with the other man's mouth hungrily lapping at his hole and sucking deep bruises into his bare skin. It was absolute heaven… Outside of actual penetrative sex with Martin, Ben had to admit that having Martin rimming him within an inch of his life definitely ranked high on the list of his favorite activities. 

 

In one swift movement, however, Martin kicked the entire experience up a notch as he gripped Ben's hip, buried his face in his arse, and pressed the very tip of his tongue into Ben's entrance. The tight ring of muscle twitched in response and the gentle burn was strangely comforting. The intensity of the feeling caused Ben to sink back into Martin's body with a groan of pleasure as a strong hand put pressure on his back and Ben let his arms collapse slowly beneath his weight, turning his face to press his cheek into the soft leather of the seat beneath him. Martin's tongue dipped in and out of his hole repeatedly, working him open with long, leisurely movements until Ben's body gave way and loosened thoroughly under Martin's administrations. 

 

His deep baritone voice reduced to a loud whine, Benedict knew that he was  practically shouting nonsense as his orgasm began to build low in his groin. All too late, he realised that he had begun thrusting his whole body back hard enough to fuck himself on that talented tongue as Martin alternated between fucking him open and lapping at his entrance much like the cat who got the creme. It was so amazing, he could practically feel Martin's Cheshire cat grin radiating between his cheeks.

 

Yes, Ben had to admit, it felt that good and yes, he had, in fact, come untouched the first time they had even attempted this sort of thing, but that wasn't what Ben wanted, now. What he wanted now was to feel his lover; wanted to feel his skin against his own and wanted to feel Martin's perfect cock pulse against his own as they came together, thrusting and panting against one another, breathlessly.

 

Raising himself up, Ben slid his body forward, just out of Martin's grasp, as he flipped himself over onto his back. It wasn't until this moment that he finally realised just how much of a mess his leaking cock had made of the plush leather seats, but there wasn't much to be done about it now. As he caught Martin's puzzled gaze, he reached for him immediately, tangling one hand in the still-open button down shirt as the other cupped the back of the man's neck to pull him down into a breathtaking kiss.

 

"I need you…" he panted between kisses as he made every effort not to beg and plead with the man. "I need you to touch me; need to feel your hands around me… please,". He added the 'please' for good measure and it was most certainly the 'please' that cracked Martin's resolve and the man nodded twice in quick fashion before aligning his hips with Ben's. As their cocks brushed together, both men let out a deep groan and Ben bucked his hips unto Martin's before the other man could restrain him.

 

"Fuck  _ me _ …" Martin breathed, "you do want this, don't you, love?". 

 

"Oh, god, you have no idea…" Ben nodded reassuringly as Martin slipped a small packet of lube from his trouser pocket, slicking his hand and coating both their cocks. As his hand closed around them both, beginning a sure and steady pace, Ben felt himself fall away and  _ Christ _ , if that wasn't perfect! 

 

Within minutes, Martin was jerking them both together in a perfect rhythm, quickening his pace at just the right moments, as he edged them both in the direction of a perfect orgasm. In the slightly cramped space of the backseat, Ben found it harder to thrust his hips while on his back, but as per usual, Martin read his mind; thrusting his hips forward at an alarming rate, the increased friction was exactly what Ben needed to force himself over the edge. He came with a shout and Martin's name on his lips, as he let the intense wave of his orgasm crash over him, drowning in the chaos of it all.

 

Within seconds, his lover followed suit, coming all over Ben's chest and stomach - a stray shot even gracing the underside of his chin where his head was still lolled back against the seat of the car. The string of curses that fell from Martin's lips as he tipped over the edge was music to Ben's ears and he lifted a trembling hand to card through the other man's greying hair. He hoped it was as comforting and grounding as he found it to be when it was done to him in return.

 

Before long, Martin collapsed in a heap on Ben's chest and Ben's arms wrapped around the man instantly. It felt nice to hold him this close, grazing his fingers through the soft  hair at Martin's ear and breathing in the smell of him so fully. It was definitely something the younger man would remember for a lifetime and yet, he was torn between wanting to hold him like this forever and dying to see what would happen next. In his arms, however, Martin's breathing was returning to normal and his body began to relax, becoming loose and compliant as Ben wriggled beneath his weight to get comfortable. He was glad when his fidgeting didn't seem to bother Martin who stayed decidedly in place. Yes, he could certainly do this forever.

 

After a moment, Martin heaved a heavy sigh and burrowed his face into the rumpled fabric of Ben's once crisp white shirt. He muttered something under his breath that sounded like an extremely lazy curse followed by an irritated grumble and the sound of it made Ben chuckle; such was life with Martin Freeman. One minute you were being schmoozed and flirted with as he cracked a witty joke or two to get you giggling your way into bed with him; the next, you were being tersely, and albeit affectionately, reminded of the adorably grumpy reputation that preceded him.

 

"And just what are you laughing about?" Martin queried, not even deigning to glorify the sound with a look.  _ Yes, definitely tired now and starting to feel grumpy…  _ The idea only made Ben's smile widen and he ruffled a hand haphazardly through his lover's fluffy hair. 

 

"Mmm," he replied, thoughtfully, "nothing really. It's just.. well, I do believe you mentioned something about 'fucking me with your cock' and, do forgive me, but I feel as if I may have missed that portion of our activities,". 

 

With a snort of indignation, Martin finally raised his head up off of Ben's chest and shot him a playful glare. "Dick," he muttered, raising himself up so that Ben could sit up. He glanced around briefly before snagging a hand towel out of a compartment in the seat in front of them, handing it off to Ben so that he could clean himself up. "That was your fault and just so we are clear, we haven't made it back to the room just yet," he continued, fixing Benedict with a mock-predatory grin. "I'm just getting warmed up,".

 

Benedict threw his head back as the suggestion left Martin's lips and he laughed in earnest at the other man's self-confidence and uncharacteristic optimism. "Easy there, Casanova," Ben retorted, teasing the other man as Martin cocked a curious eyebrow. "This unbridled success of yours is blowing your expectations for yourself a little out of proportion,".

 

Martin barked out a laugh as he gave himself a quick swipe with the tails of his own shirt before buttoning it up and tucking himself back into his trousers. "Ha fucking ha, you prat," he chided before a thoughtful expression crossed his features. "Hmmm… I could play him, though, you know," he stated, mulling something over in his mind as his focus trailed off.

 

"Play who?" Ben asked, curiously, not following Martin's train of thought.

 

"Casanova," Martin answered with full confidence and a wickedly naughty smirk.

 

This caused Ben to laugh out loud once again and he rolled his eyes playfully. "For Christ's sake! I think that BAFTA of yours has completely gone to your head," he joked as he shook his head in playful disbelief.

 

"Hey! Watch yourself, you. Seriously, though, I think I could do it and make it solid. Why, they'd probably give me another BAFTA after they see me play the part in that first onscreen shag," Martin gleamed, waggling his eyebrows  and earning nothing more than a schoolboy blush and a begrudgingly nervous grin from Benedict.

 

_ God, how could he still have that effect on me? I've just come for God's sake… _

 

Taking pity on him, Martin's playful demeanor softened and the older man leaned forward to press a kiss to Ben's lips. "Just teasing you, love; but I have to admit, that blush of yours is pretty fucking tempting," he said, glancing out the tinted windows to gauge how far they'd come so far. "And if this traffic doesn't let up soon, we may have no other choice than to shoot for Round Two or else die of boredom," he smiled, genuine happiness and mirth radiating from that thousand megawatt grin.

 

Rolling his eyes once again, Ben pressed forward and kissed the blunt tip of Martin's nose, nuzzling him affectionately, "Congratulations on the win tonight… you earned it, more than you'll ever know,".

 

Martin's eyes slipped closed as he accepted the tiny display of affection and he let out a long contented sigh. "Thank you, love… for everything. I couldn't have done it without you…"

  
  



End file.
